


If You Forget, You Don't Have to Forgive

by makoto325



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Akechi Goro Redemption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Gay, Hospitalization, M/M, Mentions of Violence, No P5R spoilers, Other, Temporary Amnesia, because I love him, p5 spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24584929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makoto325/pseuds/makoto325
Summary: Akira ends up gravely injured and stuck in the hospital after the events of Sae's palace, unable to remember the whole ordeal, including the betrayal of his dearest rival. Will they be able to mend their relationship? Or will Akira be left in the dark, blissfully unaware of what the Detective Prince did to him?
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, more ships to be added later
Comments: 32
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

White fluorescent lights burned through Akira’s eyes as he slowly pried them open. He felt like he’d been asleep for a decade and was waking up next to the sun. He tried to sit up, but his whole being exploded in pain, making him let out a groan.

“Akira!” a quiet voice gasped. “Hold on, let me grab the nurse!”

He turns his head to see Makoto hurrying off a couch at the side of the room to push a button near the side of his bed. “A nurse…? Makoto…” his throat felt like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper. “Where am I?”

Makoto knelt down beside him, eyes filled with relief. “You’re in the hospital, Akira. Oh, Akira, I’m so glad you’re alright, I don’t know what we would’ve done without you!” She rubbed her eyes with a sleeve, doing nothing to stop the cascade of tears pouring down her face. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” Akira said softly. “I’m okay.” He didn’t know if that was exactly true, but he couldn’t handle seeing Makoto cry over him like this. 

A nurse rushed into the room, her face breaking out into a smile. “Looks like sleeping beauty is finally awake!”

Akira managed a small grin. “Indeed I am.” The nurse started checking his vitals on the machine next to him. 

“How are you feeling?” the nurse asked.

“Like shit.” 

The nurse frowned. “Sorry about that. You took quite the beating, so I’ll get you started on those painkillers. There’s no use in them when you’re out cold, but that’s not the problem anymore, obviously.” Akira noticed an IV drip stuck into his arm when the nurse started messing with the bag above his head.

“What happened to me?” Akira asked, doing his best to examine himself. He was mostly covered in bandages, but the skin he could see was incredibly bruised. His right arm was in a sling and he couldn’t move it without immense pain. _Broken?_ he thought to himself.

“Apparently you got beat up pretty bad by some sort of gang, but I don’t know the details.” She motioned to Makoto, who was furiously typing something on her phone. Akira could hear what was presumably his own buzzing non-stop on the table next to him. “She can probably tell you all about it, though. Her or one of your other friends has been waiting by your side ever since you got in here.”

Makoto’s head shot up, face flushed. “Sorry! Was just letting everyone know you’re okay. They’ll be over as soon as possible!” Her face got even redder. “What were you guys saying?”

The nurse looked a little exasperated. “He was wondering how he ended up here.”

“Oh!” Her eyes filled with fear as she looked at the nurse. “I was going to explain when our friends got here, if that’s all right…” Akira knew there was some Thieves business going on that they couldn’t exactly let this random nurse know about, judging by Makoto’s trademark non-subtlety. 

“All right then. That okay with you?” she asked Akira. 

He nodded but immediately regretted it as sharp pain shot through his neck. Makoto gave him a pity-filled glance, face scrunched up with worry. “Isn’t there something you can do for the pain?” she asked the nurse.

“Give me a second,” the nurse said, still adjusting Akira’s IV drip. “Just what I was working on.”

Makoto nodded, relieved when she saw Akira’s body begin to relax. “Thank you so much.”

“Just doing my job.” The nurse smiled and headed for the door. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” She winked obviously, making Makoto go as red as Panther’s costume. 

“It’s not like that!” Makoto shouted a little too loudly, but the nurse had already left, the door closing behind her. “Well, anyway,” Makoto tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, focusing her attention back towards Akira, her face still quite red even though she was trying to act calm. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Akira grinned a little, his pain slowly beginning to fade. “Me too. Thanks for, you know, being here. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not a problem! We’ve been going in shifts, you see, ever since you got here. And I happened to get the lucky one, I suppose.” 

The two of them talked about inconsequential topics, like Futaba’s continuing Featherman addiction and Yusuke’s failed attempts to get some of the Thieves to model for him, for a while to pass the time until his friends arrived at the hospital. A few minutes later, the door to his room burst open, and the rest of the Thieves burst in. Akira noticed that there was one exception, however. Akechi was nowhere to be seen. 

“Joker!” Morgana screamed, bursting out of Futaba’s bag and onto his stomach. Akira died a bit inside as pain shot through him again. The cat winced as he noticed what he had done and sheepishly hopped onto the end of the bed. “Sorry.”

“It’s… alright…” Akira replied, trying to catch his breath. 

Futaba had rushed to his side, kneeling next to him while tears ran down her face. “You jerk! Why’d you make us worry like that?!” she yelled.

Akira patted her head lightly. “Sorry, kiddo. Won’t do it again. Promise.” 

“Don’t call me ‘kiddo’!” she acted like she was angry, but Akira could clearly see her smile as she wiped her face of tears. 

“Yo, dude…” Ryuji said, eyes sparkling with admiration. “That was so cool, what you did back there. You really saved our asses.”

The other Thieves all enthusiastically agreed, all talking over one another about what he’d done, nearly overwhelming the newly-conscious Akira. They were all telling him about how he was so brave, how he’d saved them… but what happened? He racked his brain, trying to remember anything. But he couldn’t. The last he knew, they’d been about to explore Sae’s palace. The last slightly coherent memory he had was Akechi joining them. He’d felt so happy, then, but also… betrayed? He couldn’t place the feeling, though it was certainly not a positive one. He also didn’t know why the memory of Akechi joining them spurred it on. 

“Earth to Akira… you there?” He snapped back to reality to see Ann waving her hand in front of

his face. 

“Sorry…” he murmured. The pain had subsided enough to where he could make himself sit up with little issue. “I’m just a bit confused, that’s all.”

“What about?” Ann asked. 

Makoto cleared her throat. “He doesn’t remember what happened, apparently.”

Akira nodded in agreement. “I don’t. Like, at all. We were about to go into Sae’s palace, right? Did I get really hurt in there or something? Why didn’t any of your healing powers work? And if I got hurt outside of the Metaverse, why didn’t you just take me to Takemi’s? She probably could’ve dealt with this.”

The other Thieves looked shocked. “You really don’t remember?” Yusuke asked him, hand on his chin. “We cleared the Palace and you got arrested after-” 

“Arrested?” Akira racked his brain for any sort of memory. There was nothing in there about being caught, or anything about Sae’s palace for that matter. Even the last thing he actually remembered, Akechi joining the team, was fuzzy. “What are you talking about?”

Yusuke’s brows furrowed. “What’s the last thing you remember, Akira?”

“Akechi joined us for some reason, right? Something about the school festival, I think. And then we were going to explore Sae’s palace. And that’s it. Where is he, by the way? Akechi, I mean.” He tried to seem nonchalant about the last question, but he was really quite hurt that Akechi hadn’t come to see him with the rest. They’d been getting along quite well even while being rivals, he thought. 

The Thieves exchanged nervous glances. “What’s up, guys?” Akira asked, getting worried.

“Hold on, man. There’s…um, a lot you don’t remember.” Ryuji scratched the back of his neck, not meeting Akira’s eyes. “Can you give us a second?”

Akira nodded. He didn’t know what they had to be so secretive about. Maybe they didn’t want to overwhelm him, given his current state. That was probably it, he assured himself, even though they didn’t seem to care about that when they barged in. But what the fuck wasn’t he remembering? He knew there was a gap in his memory, but there was no telling how long it was. Judging from his friends’ reactions, though, it was much longer than he expected.

He was too lost in his swirling stream of thoughts to listen in on what exactly the rest of his friends were talking about in hushed tones near the end of his hospital bed.

Haru cleared her throat softly, but it was enough to get Akira’s attention again. His friends had dispersed from their tight circle and it was obvious that they were all trying to look at anything but Akira. 

Makoto, who was sitting back down on the couch, began to speak. “So we infiltrated my sister’s palace…” She went on about all that had happened in the past few weeks. They had Akechi join the team through what amounted to blackmail, stolen Sae’s treasure after a few days, but he’d been caught and arrested on the way out. After that, they’d managed to break him out of prison with Sae’s help, and he was said to have committed suicide. Before that could happen, though, the police had done quite a number on him. They also told him all about how Shido had been the mastermind behind the mental shutdowns, and that they were planning to take him on next. A guy like that would obviously have a palace.

“You should have seen how pissed she was after she saw what happened to you!” Ryuji exclaimed. “It was for real, like, scary.” 

Makoto smiled smugly. “That’s my sister for you.”

“Damn. I sound cool as hell.” Akira laughed softly, the rest of the Thieves doing so along with him, happy to see that their leader’s ego hadn’t been damaged with the rest of him. His smile quickly faded, though, as he realized the implications of Makoto’s story. “How did the police get into the Metaverse, though? Do they have a Persona user on their side or something? Does everyone know about this all now?”

“No! No, of course not…” Makoto tried to reassure him as he started to panic. She looked over at the others with eyes that screamed, “ _Help me!_ ”

“They caught us outside of the police station. When we left!” Futaba chimed in.

“Yeah, dude. And you sacrificed yourself so the rest of us could get away.” Ryuji forced a smile. 

“Really?” Akira calmed down a little. “But why am I here? Takemi’s is definitely more discreet.”

“We took you to her first,” Ann explained. “But she was like, “these injuries are too much for me to handle here. And he’s gonna take up too much space.” So she got you transferred here.”

“Under my real name?”

“Nah. You’re Ryuji Sakamoto now, bro.” Ryuji slapped a hand on Akira’s shoulder, making him grimace. “Oh, shit. Sorry dude.”

Akira forced a laugh. “It’s not a problem. I’m just glad to see all of you guys again. Speaking of, though, where’s Akechi? He’s still your friend, right?”

“Totally.” Ann said with her trademark acting talent. 

“He’s simply busy at the moment.” Yusuke took over. “There’s still some Thieves on the loose, if you’ve heard.”

“Of course.”

Akira spent the rest of visiting hours joking and chatting with the rest of the Phantom Thieves as they tried to diffuse the earlier tension. They all tried their best to hide their discomfort at seeing their leader in such a weakened state, but he caught on easily. He was usually the one to rally the rest of them when they were hurt or feeling down, but not the other way around. Akira wished he could just push his way through this pain like he’d done so many times and take the mantle of leadership once again, but this time it wasn’t going to be so easy. He just hated to make his friends worry like this. Eventually, visiting hours came to an end, and the group had to say their goodbyes. They all promised to return as soon as school ended the next day. All except for Morgana, who curled up next to Akira. He’d obviously been lonely without him, though Akira knew the cat would never admit it.

Akira was thankful for the semi-alone time, though, once Morgana had fallen asleep. Seeing his friends pity him like that was absolutely mortifying. He was supposed to be their rock, but he’d shattered like glass instead. He’d let them all down. How could they possibly take on Shido without his wildcard abilities? He sighed, feeling more useless than ever. 

Trying to distract himself from those thoughts, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table. The glow illuminated his face as he went to see his new messages. He had a shit ton, mostly from the Phantom Thieves group chat but also from his other confidants. The news of his “suicide” had already broken, and everyone who’d figured out he was a Phantom Thief was clearly panicked. He scrolled through those messages, meaning to respond to them later, when he saw what he had been subconsciously looking for. _3 New Messages from Goro Akechi_. He opened them up without a second thought.

**Akechi** : Kurusu, I’m sorry. I really am.

**Akechi** : I wish things could’ve been different. You were the closest thing I ever had to a friend, even though I fashioned us “rivals.”

**Akechi** : But I suppose I ruined that just as I do most things. Rest well, Kurusu. I truly am sorry that things had to turn out like this.

Akira stared at the messages, rereading them over and over. What the hell was Akechi talking about? What had he done? His fingers were already typing out a message before he even thought to do so.

**Kurusu** : what are you talking about?

There wasn’t any response for a little while. Akira had started to answer some of his other messages, reassuring his friends that he wasn’t dead and was doing just fine, when he got a reply.

**Akechi** : Whichever one of you this is, this isn’t funny. Fuck off.

**Kurusu** : ???

**Kurusu** : akechi, it’s me.

**Akechi** : You and I both know that’s not possible. I will block this number if you keep messaging me.

Akira started to panic. Why didn’t Akechi believe him? What hadn’t his friends told him? Then he had an idea. A stupid one, probably, but an idea nonetheless. He turned on his camera and took a quick picture of himself, bandages and all, making sure not to wake up Morgana with the flash. He looked pretty awful, but he was willing to show Akechi that he looked like he’d been hit by a truck if it would prove that he was the real Akira. He sent it, but there wasn’t any answer. The minutes passed by as Akira stared at the screen, but nothing appeared. He never even tried to type anything. His eyes began to grow heavy, so he decided to wait until morning to see if Akechi would text him back. He went to put his phone back on the table, but his hand brushed against something in the dark. He picked it up to see a single leather black glove. His confusion only grew as he examined it. Why the fuck did he have one of Akechi’s gloves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate title: i lived, bitch
> 
> thanks so much for reading, i really appreciate it! leave a comment or a kudos or something if you liked it!
> 
> also, thanks so much to powers637 for beta reading, i don't know what i'd do without a beta if i'm honest. so, thank you!!
> 
> ~makomako


	2. Chapter 2

Akechi Goro stared at his screen in disbelief. This had to be some kind of joke. Sakamoto’s, he’d bet. But how would they get this picture? Akira looked just like he did when he last saw him, loopy from drugs but with bandages covering his more unsightly wounds. Akechi cringed at the memory. He’d tried so hard to forget that face filled with fear and betrayal. He’d been so filled with adrenaline, the excitement of finally besting his only rival, that it didn’t matter at the time. He stood and watched as he fell, lifeless from the bullet in his brain, and didn’t regret it then. No, the realization of what he’d done only really set in once he’d returned to his apartment, alone. He’d killed the only person that he had any care for in the world, and for what? A thrill that lasted for all of a minute? A chance to impress the man that threw him and his mother away like trash?

He shook his head. There was really only one conclusion he could come to. He hadn’t done the job right for the first time in his life. He expected his first failure to feel a lot worse than this, that’s for sure. But Akira, his _friend_ , was alive. And he wanted to talk to him, his own… murderer. That opened the next line of inquiry, why the fuck would Akira want to talk to him like everything was just fine between them? 

Akechi rose from his bed, throwing his phone down on the covers. He needed something to drink, and this was one of those nights he wished he had something stronger than water. He left his room and walked to his pathetic excuse for a kitchen and poured himself a glass. He stared at the counter, taking small sips while he tried to sort through his tidal wave of thoughts. On one hand, he was relieved that he hadn’t really killed Akira. He hasn’t really wanted to do something so permanent, after all. But on the other, he knew there was no going back now. The rest of the Phantom Thieves definitely despised him for his betrayal. Who else could have let the police into the Metaverse? There was no one he could go to now. No one but Shido. 

His mood instantly soured at the thought of that bastard. Was his grand plan for revenge really worth it at this point? He started to wonder. Did he really want to go that far?

He looked over to the clock on his microwave. 12:45. Not too late by his usual standards, but he did have an exam the next day. And it just wouldn’t do for the Detective Prince’s grades to slip, would it? He sighed, put his glass in the sink, and trudged back to his bedroom.

He noticed right as he entered the room that his phone was going off like there was no tomorrow. _Akira?_ he thought, and rushed to pick it up. _Ah, of course not._ Shido was bombarding him with texts and missed calls. And he’d only left his phone a few minutes… Akechi instantly dialed Shido’s number, filled with the same self-loathing he always felt when he acted like the shithead’s trained mutt. “Sir?” he asked when Shido answered the phone, putting on his best interview voice.

“Where the hell have you been, Akechi?” Shido growled.

“It’s only been a few minutes since you first called, sir.”

“Don’t talk back to me, boy.”

“Of course. What did you want to speak with me about?”

“I need you to take out the rest of the Phantom Thieves.”

Akechi’s blood froze. He wasn’t feeling a sudden camaraderie with that merry band of fools, but Akira still lived, and they were Persona users besides. “But why? And I can’t take them out in the usual manner, as they wo-“

“I don’t have to explain myself to a brat,” He’d never admit it to himself, but fear always welled up in Akechi’s heart when Shido got angry at him like this. “Just _do it_.”

Akechi gulped. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get it done.” Shido ended the call. Akechi sat back on his bed, running a hand through his hair. How the fuck was he supposed to do something like this? He couldn't kill the rest of the Thieves the normal way, and the thought of _Akira is alive…_ kept running through his brain. He opened up the other boy’s message again as he flopped back onto the bed, feeling his already elevated heart rate accelerate even further. Even in this state, the leader of the Phantom Thieves could still steal the air from his lungs. 

* * *

The next morning - or afternoon, more accurately - Akira slowly awoke, light streaming in through the blinds. He realized that he had fallen asleep clutching that small leather glove, and he embarrassedly put it back on the table, thankful that Morgana was still snoring beside him. The cat was usually up way earlier than him, but Akira assumed that all the worry had tired him out. _Poor kitty._

Having nothing better to do, he leaned over to pick up his phone. Luckily, whoever had brought all of his stuff didn’t put it on the right side of the bed, or the whole process would’ve been a lot more painful and difficult. He was pretty sure that arm was broken, and damn, was it annoying to type with one hand. He’d have to get used to it, unfortunately.

He checked his messages first thing. Surprisingly, Akechi had responded to him in the night, at about 1:30 in the morning. Akira sighed in relief. The detective hadn’t blocked him after all. Maybe now he could get closer to finding out what his friends had neglected to tell him. 

**Akechi** : Kurusu, how the fuck are you alive? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.

He must’ve heard the news about the “suicide”, Akira figured. It would explain those weird messages, that’s for sure. Why didn’t the Thieves tell him the truth about it, though? 

**Kurusu** : your vibes are all over the place but okay

**Kurusu** : so i actually didn’t commit suicide, believe it or not. 

**Kurusu** : my friends broke me out of prison with Sae-san’s help, apparently. sounds pretty cool, huh?

**Kurusu** : did they not tell you?

His screen instantly lit up with “Akechi Goro is typing…” It came and went a few times until Akechi eventually figured out what to say.

**Akechi** : What do you mean by “apparently”?

_Those Detective Prince instincts at work_ , Akira thought, grinning.

**Kurusu** : i’ll be honest with you, i really don’t remember. i just woke up at the hospital yesterday and the last thing i remember happening was you joining us for some reason

**Kurusu** : so, since i was so honest, you’ve gotta answer my question

**Kurusu** : why didn’t you know about all this? did you guys have a fight or something? like, just what’s going on?

**Akechi** : That was more than one question.

**Kurusu** : don’t stall. i’m being serious for once

**Akechi** : Well, we disbanded. That was the deal, no? 

Akira frowned. His friends had told him that Akechi was just busy, and Makoto never mentioned them disbanding in her recollection of events… After thinking on it for a bit, Akira had a sudden flash of realization. Once they had escaped from the police, the Phantom Thieves must’ve “disbanded” for Akechi’s sake, but of course they wouldn’t simply fold. Akira doubted the Phantom Thieves would’ve ever disbanded because of something like Akechi threatening them. It was a shame, though. They really could use someone like Akechi, as he had a mind for strategy and strength that rivaled even Akira’s, if his friends were to be believed. 

**Kurusu** : i get it. sorry to make you sad, im 100% not dead

**Akechi** : I wasn’t. It was simply a shame, that’s all.

Akira grinned. Of course he wouldn’t admit it, but he knew Akechi was relieved that he was alive. Why would he be texting him otherwise?

**Kurusu** : whatever you say, detective prince

**Akechi** : Shut up. 

**Kurusu** : wow, so rude to someone in the hospital :(

Akechi didn’t respond to that one. _He’s more thin-skinned than I remember,_ Akira mused. _Where’s my witty comeback?_

**Kurusu** : anyway when you’re not busy, you should come say hi

**Kurusu** : i’m so booooreeeeed

**Akechi** : Hasn’t it only been a day?

**Kurusu** : i’m still bored

**Akechi** : I’m really quite busy. I apologize.

**Kurusu** : :(

**Kurusu** : all day?

**Akechi** : During the hours I would be allowed to see you, yes.

**Kurusu** : then come at night? i’ll tell them you’re my brother or something

**Akechi** : Kurusu, we look nothing alike.

**Kurusu** : fine. you’re my cousin - goro sakamoto

**Akechi** : Since when were you and Sakamoto married?

**Kurusu** : jealous?

**Akechi** : What?

**Kurusu** : i’m just here under his name

**Kurusu** : so you’ve got to deal with a slight name change

Akira swore he could hear Akechi sigh through the screen.

**Akechi** : Fine. I’ll see what I can do.

Akira sent him the details, and then messaged Takemi asking if she could use any of her doctor connections to let his ‘cousin’ come after visiting hours. Akira came up with a sob story about how much he missed his family and his cousin was the only one in town, but he was really busy at work (technically, that one wasn’t a lie) so he could only come at night. Takemi got back with him immediately, saying that he didn’t have to bullshit her. She’d let him have someone come after visiting hours, but not too many to seem weird. She then began bombarding him with questions about his well being. After reassuring her that all was well, he went back to Akechi.

**Kurusu** : i checked, and they’ll let you in. just say you’re visiting sakamoto-kun and they’ll understand

**Akechi** : All right.

**Kurusu** : when can you come?

**Kurusu** : SUPER bored

**Akechi** : I’m not sure.

**Kurusu** : tonight ?

**Akechi** : That’s a little short notice, don’t you think?

**Kurusu** : pleeeeeeaaaaaaaaassssseeeeeeee

**Akechi** : I’ll check my schedule.

**Akechi** : It seems that I’m free after 9pm. I’ll see you sometime around then?

**Kurusu** : :)

**Akechi** : Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to class.

**Kurusu** : okay, see you later!

Akira dropped his phone onto his lap, unable to stop himself from laughing. Akechi was actually going to come see him. God, he was excited. Just sitting alone in this hospital bed was absolutely mind-numbing, especially compared to his usual double life of a normal student and Phantom Thievery. 

The door suddenly burst open with a bang, making Morgana snap awake. “What’s going on? Who’s attacking?” he yelped.

A low chuckle came from the doorway. “That cat just never shuts up, does he?” Sojiro commented. “It’s good to see you, kid.” He sauntered over to the couch, a box that smelled very familiar in his hands, as Futaba bounded over to start petting Morgana. 

“Sorry, just got a little scared there…” he murmured, eyes shifting to the floor. 

“Likewise, Boss, especially if you’ve got what I think you do…” Akira motioned to the box.

“Only like me for the curry, huh?” Sojiro muttered as he set up the table connected to Akira’s bed. 

Morgana hopped out of the way to avoid getting hit on the head, ending up next to Sojiro on the couch. 

“Don’t forget about the free room, too.” Akira smiled as Sojiro opened the box of curry, Futaba giggling beside him. The smell instantly brought him back to days spent at Leblanc with him and Futaba, the closest family he’d ever really had. He wished he could just jump out of this bed and take his usual spot behind the counter, but this would have to do for now. He took a bite and his body filled with warmth. He’d have to get the recipe out of Sojiro at some point.

Sojiro ignored his quip. “They really did a number on you, huh?”

“You better be grateful we had such a great plan to get you out!” Futaba chimed in, pointing a finger at him. 

“Hell yeah I am,” Akira said through a mouthful of curry. “Thanks for not saying anything, Boss.”

Sojiro snorted. “Wasn’t all for your own sake. Futaba would’ve gotten in a whole lotta trouble too. Don’t think I’m happy that you’ve put her in danger.”

Futaba rolled her eyes. “You know I can handle myself, Sojiro.” 

“C’mon, Boss, you know you love me…” Akira gave him his best puppy-dog eyes.

Sojiro rolled his own in response, but he was barely concealing a smile. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, kid.”

As Futaba and Akira laughed, he felt his phone buzz from under the table. _Akechi?_ He wondered as he scrambled to get it. He could feel himself blush as he remembered he had company. 

Sojiro cleared his throat, so Akira abandoned his quest to look over at the older man. With one eyebrow raised and a mischievous glint in his eyes, he asked Akira, “Who’s that?”

Akira could feel his blush deepen, thanking whatever gods there were that he’d made sure Futaba would no longer read his texts before this whole ordeal. “Just… uh, Ryuji. He was gonna pirate some of the Featherman episodes I missed for me.”

Sojiro obviously didn’t buy it, but Futaba thankfully didn’t catch on. “And you didn’t ask me?!” she feigned offense. 

“He offered!” Akira replied, sticking his good hand up to say he was innocent.

The door swung open once again as the nurse from the day before came in. She instantly locked eyes with Morgana, who looked as guilty as a cat possibly could. “I’m sorry, but you’re really not allowed to have pets in here.” she said apologetically.

“I’m not a pet! I’m a human!” Morgana protested, but they obviously fell on deaf ears.

“Could you two please take him when you leave?”

“Sorry…” Futaba murmured, looking over at Akira.

“No worries,” he reassured her. “It’s not like I can feed him or do much at all here.” _It also solves_

_the Akechi issue…_

“I can’t go outside either…” Morgana said, looking out the window wistfully. Akira didn’t know what floor he was on, but it was obviously pretty high up. 

“Thank you!” The nurse said politely, going to check up on Akira and give him another dose of painkillers. His pain had been starting to flare up again, so even while he mourned the loss of company, he started to relax. 

* * *

Across the city, Akechi Goro could not focus on his test. Why the hell had he accepted that invitation? Did he want to get himself killed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! thanks for reading chapter 2, i really appreciate it! leave constructive criticism and stuff in the comments if you'd like, i always want to become a better writer.
> 
> i also made a twitter for my fandom stuff, it's mostly akeshu spam but also it'll have updates on my stuff!
> 
> if you want to follow it, it's @makomako_fics
> 
> thanks again to powers637, i actually don't know how i'd survive without a beta. how do some of you do it??
> 
> ~makomako


	3. Chapter 3

Akira never usually felt this nervous. He was the leader of the Phantom Thieves, after all, and their encounters with shadows and palace rulers made his nerves pretty unshakable. Yet here he was, checking his phone every two seconds to see if there had been any word from Akechi. He said he’d be free after nine… but now it was reaching nine thirty. Had Akechi stood him up? Did he ask too much from the Detective Prince?

Though as if on cue, he heard a soft, polite knock on the door. He smiled. No one else ever bothered to knock, not even the nurses. “Come in,” he called, a sweet lilt in his voice. 

Akechi carefully pushed the door open, making sure to not let it swing closed and wake up the whole floor. He said nothing as he crossed the room and sat on the couch, staring at Akira like he was trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. 

Akira cleared his throat, trying not to blush from the intensity of his stare. “So, uh, how’ve you been?” All that confidence he’d shown in their texts had completely vanished. Something about having Akechi, the real, flesh-and-blood Akechi, sitting in front of him made his brain go on the fritz. He suddenly felt very conscious of exactly how vulnerable he was under the detective’s unflinching gaze. Maybe this wasn’t his best plan after all.

Akechi laughed quietly, the lights from the city illuminating him from behind. It didn’t sound at all like Akira remembered from his myriad TV appearances. He considered himself pretty knowledgeable on the subject, as he paid rapt attention whenever they came on at Leblanc. This time, it sounded like he’d actually been caught off guard for once. Akira did tend to have that effect on the ever-composed boy sometimes. “I suppose that I’ve been fine, Kurusu. Quite busy with Phantom Thief nonsense, regrettably. But I think the more pressing question concerns you. Are you feeling okay?” Akechi winced a little. “You look a bit worse for wear.”

“You can be honest, man. I look like ass.”

“Not the words I would use, but I would have to agree.”

Akira laughed. “Well, I guess I’m doing all right. With the painkillers, at least. Otherwise, not so much. But, really, I’m mostly just bored.”

“As I’ve heard.” Akechi adjusted his position on the couch, and Akira could tell he was a bit uncomfortable, from the couch or the conversation he wasn’t sure. “You’re really not a fan of sitting still, are you?”

“Hey, when you spend most of your time beating shit up in an alternate dimension where you basically have superpowers, nothing can really compare. Especially not this.”

“Fair enough. I think I’m the same way.”

“So, what do you do when you’re not in the Metaverse?”

“Well, I actually have a job,” Akechi responded snidely, “But other than that, I enjoy exercising. I biked here, you know.”

“You _biked_?” Akira asked incredulously. “How far away do you live?”

Akechi shrugged. “Not too far. I enjoy it, though. It’s one of the few times I can just be alone with my thoughts.”

“Weirdo.”

“Excuse me?” Akechi grinned. “At least I’m getting fit.”

“Hey, I can exercise too,” Akira protested. “Not right now, but, normally!”

“Sure you can.” Akechi put on one of those perfect made-for-TV smiles. “But I hope you invited me here for something a little more than idle chatter.”

Akira rolled his eyes, laughing a little. “Yeah, actually. I wanted to ask you something.”

“And what would that be?”

Akira pulled the glove from his bedside table and showed it to Akechi. “This is yours, right? Why was it with my stuff?”

He swore he could see Akechi’s face go pale, if only for a moment. “Ah, that. I suppose you don’t remember our duel.”

“Duel?” Akira replied excitedly. 

“Yeah. We fought in Mementos once. Afterwards, I wanted a rematch, so I challenged you to one. It’s Western tradition to give your opponent a glove to do so, and you accepted it. I suppose you forgot you had it on you.”

“Sounds melodramatic.” Akira joked, but Akechi ignored him. “And does that mean what I think it means?”

“What would that be, Kurusu?”  
“I won.”

Akechi gave him a sharp glare. “You got lucky.”

Akira burst out laughing, unable to control himself. Akechi sighed, placing his forehead in his hand. Once Akira managed to reign himself in, he said, “Sorry! I’m sorry. Your reaction, it was just priceless.”

Akechi leaned back on the couch, arms folded. Akira could see the irritation clear on the other boy’s face, so he had to try and disrupt the tension. “Well, I can’t exactly rematch you now,” he said, trying to think of a change of topic when he saw the chessboard he had the nurse bring in earlier in the day. No one could tell him he wasn’t prepared. “How about we try a different kind of duel?”

“What kind is that?” Akechi looked back up at him, intrigued.

Akira pointed at the chessboard. “Will that work?” 

Akechi smiled, his eyes brimming with competitive spirit. “I think it will.” He retrieved it from the counter and adjusted the bed’s table so they could play comfortably. “I’ll have you know, I’m pretty good at this game,” he boasted, placing the black pieces on his side of the board. “You’ll find me a challenging opponent.” 

“I feel like you say that about everything…” Akira muttered, making his first move.

“Maybe because it’s true.” Akechi replied. From anyone else, Akira would hate that kind of smugness, but somehow, with Akechi, it was endearing.

They kept up some friendly competitive banter as they started, but quickly fell silent as they focused on beating the other. It even began to feel comfortable, Akira noticed. Normal. Akechi had loosened his tie a little bit, his jacket laid on the arm of the couch and the sleeves of his white button-down rolled up to his elbows. He still looked more professional than Akira could ever hope to be, but it was nice to see this side of him. Competitive, of course, but relaxed. Peaceful. Luckily Akechi was too focused on the match to notice Akira staring. Or maybe he did, but just didn’t care. Whatever it was, the nerves that had made their home in Akira’s stomach started to fade. They found a comfortable rhythm, playing in complete silence. Akira felt at ease, and could tell that Akechi shared in it. 

“Check.” Akechi declared, breaking the gentle peace that Akira had been reveling in. All competitions had to end at some point, he reminded himself, though he was a little disappointed. The detective had put Akira in quite the tough spot, having captured his queen a few turns before. Akira let out a puff of air. Akechi really was a good opponent, not that Akira should’ve expected anything less. The brunet looked up from his focus and gave Akira a mischievous grin that almost made him blush. “Ready to concede?”

Akira adjusted his glasses. “Of course not.” He’d keep fighting to the very end. 

“Very well.” Akechi said, looking back down at the board. “I suppose I will just have to crush you completely.”

 _Feisty,_ Akira thought, but it really was the best way to describe how the game finally concluded. Akira had tried his best to avoid Akechi’s relentless attacks, but eventually had run out of places to go. For the most part, the game had been close, but by the time Akechi had asked him to concede Akira had already lost. 

Akechi stretched his arms above his head, leaning back on the couch again, clearly satisfied with his performance. It was a small gesture, sure, but Akira had never seen the other boy feel so at home. Not in the time they’d spent together, at least. Akira felt a twinge of envy in his chest. Of whom, he didn’t know, but he didn’t want Akechi to act this way in front of anyone else, just him. He shook away the selfish thought as fast as it came, but he couldn’t stop himself from blushing. He hoped it was dark enough that Akechi wouldn’t notice. “You got me.” he admitted.

“Of course. Didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“You got lucky.” Akira responded teasingly.

“You know that’s not the case.”

“I’ll say that when you admit my win was all skill.”

Akechi scoffed. “I’m not a liar.”

“Well,” Akira said, taking the glove from the table again and offering it to Akechi, “How about a rematch?”

Akechi laughed, accepting the glove. “You want me to come back?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Akira asked, scratching the back of his neck. “This has actually been the most fun I’ve had in here. Don’t tell Futaba that, though. She’ll murder me.”

Akechi stood up with a start. “Yes, well, it’s getting quite late. I really should be going.” He picked up his jacket and fixed his tie. Akira could feel a wall being built back up between them.

“Hey, wait,” Akira stuck a hand out instinctively, “You’ll come back soon, right? You did take the glove…”

Akechi stopped about halfway to the door and looked back at Akira. “I… I’ll see if that’ll be possible. I hope you’ll manage to get out of here soon, though.”

“So we could go out somewhere else?” Akira turned on the charm. “You know I make the best coffee in all of Tokyo.”

“We’ll see about that,” Akechi said, looking away again. “I really do have to get going, though.”

“Be careful. Don’t get hit by a car or something.”  
“I’ll try my best.”

“Will you text me when you get there?” Akira blurted out and immediately regretted once he saw the look on Akechi’s face. “Or don’t. That’s cool too.”

“No, I… will, I suppose.” Akechi looked extremely confused, his hand on his chin just like when he was trying to solve a particularly difficult case. “Goodbye, Kurusu.”

“See you,” Akira replied, but Akechi had already left the room. He waited for the telltale slam of the door, but of course Akechi would be careful enough to softly close it again even though he was clearly in a hurry to leave. How frustratingly considerate.

Once he heard it close, Akira let out a sigh. He had hoped that Akechi would actually want to see him again, but it seemed like a pretty far off possibility now. He rushed out as soon as he could, and then Akira had the gall to ask for a “got home safe” text. What was he thinking?!

He pulled his blanket over him and rolled on his side. Why did he care so much, anyway? He had plenty of friends that would rush over to see him at the drop of a hat. He never had to question if Ryuji or Yusuke or whoever else actually enjoyed his company. Just Akechi. So why the hell did he even bother? What was his deal with the Detective Prince?

* * *

Akechi rushed out of the building, cursing himself for going at all, much less enjoying himself. He grabbed his bike from the rack and started to pedal as fast as he could. He didn’t really pay attention to where exactly he was going, his emotions running too hot for him to think straight. He could’ve finished Akira off right there. He was so defenseless, so vulnerable… It would’ve been so easy to just wrap a hand around his neck and end it all. But he didn’t. He sat and chatted like they were old friends. Like they were normal people. So. Painfully. Normal. He wished he could be anything but, as everyone else had to deal with these sorts of feelings. Sometimes, now definitely being one of them, he thought he would prefer to be something controlled by pure reason. Then he could deal with Akira without these stupid emotions getting in the way. What he felt towards his rival, his enemy, could just be ignored. Better yet, it wouldn’t exist at all. He wouldn’t feel guilty for what he’d done. He wouldn’t feel like he didn’t deserve -

Akechi shook his head. This line of thought would only lead to disaster. He kept biking but started to become a little more aware of his surroundings. Neon lights and obnoxious signs of women in various stages of undress leered at him from tall buildings. Music was blaring from the many clubs on the street, and hawkers of all types tried to get passersby to buy their shit or go into their establishment. The noise was unbearable. _Ah,_ Akechi realized. _Shinjuku._ He didn’t know how exactly he ended up in the red-light district, but it wasn’t too far from where he meant to go. The hawkers started to notice the boy stopped in the middle of the street, and some recognized the insufferable detective brat that plagued their TVs all too often. When people started to yell, he knew it was time for a quick escape. It wouldn’t do wonders for his public image to be seen out and about in Shinjuku at this time of night. _Do I really have to deal with this shit right now?_ He thought as he started riding away as fast as he could. Luckily, over years of running away from shadows and fans alike, he’d developed an aptitude for this sort of thing. 

He ended up in a small alleyway, having easily outpaced his pursuers. Unfortunately, though, as he stepped off his bike to catch his breath, he noticed someone staring at him. A young blonde woman sat at a small table, looking at him curiously. “Do you need something?” he snapped. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to keep up his Detective Prince persona after the past few hours. 

She wasn’t fazed by his grumpiness. “You look like you need some advice.”

He scoffed, fixing his tie. “I think I’ll be just fine without it, thanks. I don’t need some fake fortune-telling crap to tell me what to do.”

The woman giggled. “Just let me do one reading, and I promise you’ll know that I’m the real deal. Or,” she held out her cell phone that had a picture of him with all the lights and signs of Shinjuku in the background. It reminded him of a certain tactic used against the Phantom Thieves at one point in time. _Stop thinking about those fools!_ He tried to push the thought out of his head, but that was never too easy when it came to Akira. “The gossip rags will know all about Akechi Goro’s night out.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding…” Akechi groaned, but sat down at the table nonetheless. 

She smiled. “Thank you, Akechi-kun.”

“Since you apparently know all about me, care to tell me your name?”

“Mifune Chihaya,” she said, messing with her deck of cards. “What type of reading would you like? A life reading? A career reading? Ooh, how about a love reading?!”

Akechi blushed as a certain person came to mind, only increasing Chihaya’s boundless enthusiasm. “No, thank you. I’ll take the life one.”

Chihaya nodded and started shuffling the cards. Akechi knew next to nothing about the tarot besides the fact that he thought it was bullshit, so her whole display really just looked like impressive deception. As he stared at Chihaya flipping the cards with utmost care, though, his vision went white, only for a moment. He looked up at Chihaya with confusion, but she was only focused on the spread in front of her. “Hmm…” Chihaya finally made eye contact with him. “You need to change the path you’re on, Akechi-kun.”

“Why’s that?”

“I can’t tell exactly how soon, but your death seems imminent.” she said simply. “But fate, contrary to what I used to believe, is never set in stone. You can change this. But you’ll have to do something about it soon.”

“What do I need to do?” Akechi asked. Even though his brain was telling him to get up and ignore whatever this charlatan was telling him, his gut glued him into his seat. “Do you know?”

Chihaya thought for a moment. “I’m not… the cards don’t tell me exactly how. But what I can tell you is that whatever you’re currently striving for, the thing you want above all else, will end in your doom.”

Akechi said nothing, contemplating her words. He knew exactly what goal she was talking about, but he was in too deep. There was nothing he could do to “change his path”. 

“It was nice to meet you, Akechi-kun. I hope you can manage to avoid this terrible fate.”

“How much do I owe you?” Akechi pulled out his wallet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chihaya said gently. “I did kind of force you into it.”

Akechi allowed himself to laugh a little bit. “That’s true,” he stood up from the stool. “It was nice to meet you too, Mifune-san. I will try my best to avoid certain doom.” he tried to make that last sentence light, but worry creeped into his voice.

Chihaya waved as he biked away. He returned it, making sure to get home without making any more unnecessary detours. 

He reached his apartment, the ill tidings given to him from Mifune stuck in his head. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically, so he took a quick cold shower and tucked himself in bed. He checked his phone to see that he had a missed message from Akira. 

**Kurusu** : did you get home okay? it’s pretty late

Shit! He’d said he would send Kurusu a text when he had returned home. Guilt welled up in his stomach for forgetting.

Wait. Why the fuck did he care? He shot this guy! His rival! His enemy! He… he _hated_ him!

No, that wasn’t true. He couldn’t hate Akira, as much as he really wanted to. 

**Akechi** : Yeah, I took a wrong turn. Just got back.

Akira wasted no time in responding. 

**Kurusu** : good! you had me a little worried there

 **Akechi** : I apologize. I am home.

Akechi put his phone on his nightstand. No one had ever worried about him before. An unfamiliar feeling warmed him inside as he thought about it. Was he worth enough to another human being to actually be worried about? No, that couldn’t be it. He didn’t deserve anyone’s worry, especially not Akira’s. He didn’t remember, that was true, but Akechi had shot him. Tried to, at least. And he’d done so many horrible things to Akira’s friends, too… he didn’t deserve anything from Akira. But maybe whatever gods existed had given him a second chance. A chance that he was determined not to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope everyone liked this chapter! i'm sorry that this one took a little longer to come out - i've been pretty busy with work and had a bit of a corona scare. but here it is, and i hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> thanks, as always, to powers637, the best beta on earth!
> 
> if you want to see more of me, but mostly more shuake, you can follow my twitter, @makomako_fics !


	4. Chapter 4

To Akira’s surprise, Akechi kept coming back, night after night. Some nights, they kept up their chess competition (Akira won once and Akechi never heard the end of it), others they just talked. Akira noticed that the bags under the detective’s eyes were getting darker and darker each time they met. Akira worried about his work and the toll it was taking on him, but he never pried. Even though he thought the two of them had been getting somewhere, Akira still found Akechi to be far too guarded for his liking. He didn’t want to push too hard and potentially scare Akechi off, but he could still tell there was something wrong. 

Whenever he tried to steer the conversation towards his lost memories, specifically of Sae Nijima’s palace and the mastermind behind the mental shutdowns, Akechi would always be so painfully vague. He’d always repeat the same annoying song and dance that the other Thieves kept doing, but there was clearly something missing. He’d spent enough time around people trying to bullshit him to pick up on it. He didn’t bother asking the Thieves about it during their daytime visits. He was still their leader, after all, and outwardly doubting his teammates would only create a bigger rift between them. He’d been keeping his meetings with Akechi a secret from the other Thieves, and hell if he wanted that to come to light. 

At this point, though, he’d had enough of the lying. There was something they didn’t want him to remember, something important. He could feel it in his bones. Akechi was coming over once again - he’d already gotten the text - so all Akira had to do was muster up the courage to confront him. Which was much easier said than done, of course, but he had no other choice. He only hoped that Akechi would take off his Detective Prince persona for just a moment so he could pry the truth from those delicate lips. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

However, 9:30 came and went. Then 9:45. Then 10:00. There was no sign of Akechi. Akira checked his phone religiously, but he got no word at all. Akechi’s last message of “I’ll be there at the usual time.” mocked him from the screen.  _ It’s probably just work… _ Akira tried to assuage his worries.  _ They work him too hard. They know he’s just a high schooler, right? A sharp one, for sure, but still a highschooler. _

As Akira tried to distract himself with his righteous indignation, the door flew open. At first, he thought Ryuji had somehow broken into the hospital, but his jaw dropped when he saw Akechi stumble across the room like he’d just lost a bar fight. He flopped down on the couch as the door slammed closed, jacket unbuttoned and tie nowhere to be found. It reminded Akira a little of when they played chess, but instead of peaceful and relaxed, the whole thing was perverse. For a moment, Akira couldn’t bring himself to say anything. All he could do was stare at his friend, eyes closed and breathing heavily. “What the fuck happened to you, Akechi?” he finally stuttered out.

Akechi didn’t open his eyes. “Work.”

“That can’t be true. You look like death.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” There was a sharp edge to his voice that instantly shut Akira up. He didn’t know what to do. There was obviously something more going on here, he wasn’t that dense. Akechi had told Akira about his work before, and he’d never mentioned it being this grueling.

“Akechi,” he said gently, “Really, what’s going on?”

Akechi turned his head toward Akira, finally opening his eyes to send a sharp crimson glare his way. Akira shrunk a little under his unflinching gaze, this unfamiliar, ferocious side of his friend scaring him. “Can you hear, Kurusu? I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Then why did you come here?” Ajura asked quietly.

Akechi’s eyes widened, losing a bit of their edge. “Why did I come, indeed…” he muttered, stretching. After a few more seconds of silence, he stood up. “You’re right, Kurusu. Why did I come here?” he started towards the door, shaking his head. “Foolish. This was all so foolish.”

His tone broke Akira’s heart. “Wait! Wait, Akechi, that’s not what I meant!” Akechi didn’t stop walking. “Akechi, please, hold on.”

Akechi sighed, but stopped nonetheless. “What, Kurusu? What do you want?”

“Well, first, I’d like if you didn’t just leave like that,” Akira tried to keep his voice light, but desperation oozed from his words. “And two, I just want you to be honest with me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Akechi bristled at Akira’s pity. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! Fine, I’ll fucking tell you what’s wrong…” He caught himself, face going bright red. Balling his hands into fists at his sides, he continued, eyes glued to the floor. “My shitface of a father. He treats me like some sort of tool. I’m sick of it. Are you happy now?”

Akira’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He’d never seen Akechi get angry, especially not to this extent. He didn’t even know the other boy had the capability to curse. “You’re still in contact with him?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Can you sit back down, Akechi? I want you to stay. Please.” Akechi didn’t sit back down, but he didn’t leave either. Instead, he leaned back against the wall. Akira took it as an invitation to continue. “You want to talk about this, right? You can tell me, you know.” 

“Have you ever heard the name Masayoshi Shido?”

Akira nodded. “Makoto said something about him being behind all of this shit.”

“My father.”

“What?!” Akira gasped. “No fucking way. That can’t… Seriously?”

Akechi laughed mirthlessly at Akira’s sputtering. “That’s the bastard.”

“Then why the fuck are you still in contact with him, dude? He’s our enemy! He’s fucking evil!”

Akechi seemed a bit taken aback at Akira’s sudden passion. “I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“Bullshit.”

“Who are you to call bullshit? You don’t know the first thing about my situation. But I  _ will _ be the one to take him down. I don’t care what it takes.”

“Then stay with us!” Akira exclaimed. “We can work together to change his heart!”   
“Change his heart, huh…” Akechi shook his head. “A man like him deserves far, far worse.”

“That’s not for us to decide, Akechi. We’re not the judge, jury, and executioner.”

Akechi scoffed. “Yet you can decide to ‘change their hearts’ with no one’s consent but your own.”

“It’s better than straight up murder! And it’s not like we’re just doing that shit for fun. We’re saving the people hurt by their crimes, and arguably the person whose treasure we’re taking. Their desires had become so distorted, they weren’t themselves anymore, and we’re returning them to their previous selves.”

“Trust me, Shido’s always been a fucking dick. I wouldn’t be surprised if changing his heart did nothing at all.”

“It’s worth it to try. Join us, Akechi. I bet I can get the others to come around.”

Akechi let out that same humorless laugh. “I’m not too sure about that one.”

“But you’ll think about it?”

“Sure. I’ll think about it. Happy?”

“Yeah.” Akira smiled. He still wasn’t used to this angry, snark-filled side of Akechi, but his heart still swelled when he said he’d consider re-joining the team. “You wanna sit now?”

Akechi’s eyebrows furrowed, but he finally did as he was asked. Resting his chin in laced hands, he quietly asked, “Why me? Why not have one of your actual friends stay with you?”

“Because you’re my friend, too, Akechi.” Akira’s smile grew. “I really like having you around. Don’t get me wrong, the Phantom Thieves mean the world to me, but I guess I can’t help myself. You mean a whole lot to me too.”

“I… appreciate the sentiment, Kurusu,” Akechi gulped. “I suppose I’m just not used to it.”

“You can call me Akira, you know. I think you’re the only one of my friends who still calls me by my last name.”

“Uh, alright,” Akechi stammered. “You can call me Goro then, I guess.”

“Okay, Goro.” Akira said, purposefully lengthening the syllables of his name.

“Do that again and your first name privileges are revoked,” His tone was serious, but his face softened as Akira laughed. “I’m serious!” he added through his own laughter, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

Goro glanced at his phone clock. “I really should get going. It’s getting quite...” he yawned. “Quite late.”

“You should stay…” Akira yawned too. “Ugh, your sleepiness is contagious.”

“I can’t do that, Kuru - I mean, Akira, - that’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not! You biked here, right? It wouldn’t be safe to go back when you’re so tired.”

Goro scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess that’s a fair point.”

Akira used his good arm to throw Goro an extra blanket from his bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Goro fumbled around with the blanket in his hands, trying to find some reason to refuse the offer. When he found none, he started to make his couch into a makeshift bed. “Okay,” he muttered sheepishly, “Good night, Akira.”

“Night, Goro.”

* * *

Goro woke up the next morning to a shocked yell and a loud clatter from the doorway. He quickly threw his blanket off and opened his eyes to see Yusuke Kitagawa standing shocked, a dropped canvas on the floor next to him. 

“Goro, what’s going on…?” Akira slurred, still mostly asleep.

“Goro…?!” Yusuke exclaimed. “Akira, he needs to leave. Now.” 

Yusuke’s hardened face made Goro’s heart sink to his knees. He started to hurriedly pick up his jacket and leave, but as was his nasty habit, Akira just had to stop him. “Wait, guys,” Akira sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “I know you guys had some sort of fight, but Yusuke, can’t you let it go? He’s my friend. You can trust him, I promise.”

Yusuke glared at Goro. “I don’t think that’ll be possible.”

“Why not?”

“You didn’t tell him, huh?” Yusuke asked Goro, ignoring the question.

“It’s not like you guys did either. Don’t act like I’m the only one at fault here.” Goro protested, which made Yusuke blush.

“Tell me what?” Akira tried to insert himself into the conversation.

“Can we please talk about this outside?” Neither Goro nor Yusuke spared Akira a glance. 

“With you? Not a chance.” Yusuke said dismissively. “I don’t want to tell you again, Akechi. You need to leave us. More importantly, you must  _ never  _ come near him again.”

Akira sighed. “Can’t you guys just talk it out? You’re both my great friends, and I really think you can work whatever happened out. You can do it without me if that’d make you more comfortable, but I’d at least like to know what actually happened between you guys after.”

Yusuke finally turned away from Goro. “Akira, I don’t believe this is a good idea.” 

Akira gave him his best puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Yusuke?”

Yusuke sighed. “Fine.” He picked up the canvas from the floor and gave it to Akira. “I made this for you.”   
Goro leaned over to see that it was a painting of Akira all dressed up in his Phantom Thief garb, the rest of the Thieves behind him. A pang of jealousy struck him, but he pushed it away as best as he could. “Come on, Kitagawa.”

The two of them left the room, the tension so palpable Goro almost choked on it. Yusuke carefully made sure the door was absolutely closed before leading Goro to the other side of the hall.

“Look,” Goro started. “I know what I did - what I’ve done - is not going to be easy to forgive. Hell, Sakura and Okumura-”

“Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?” Yusuke interrupted, arms crossed over his chest. “To be frank, I don’t trust you in the slightest. And you’re already trying to get me to  _ forgive _ you?”

Goro realized that he might’ve started off a little strong. He’d been so used to speaking with Akira, who was foolish enough to trust him completely, that he’d assumed speaking with someone who remembered what he’d done would be easy. “That’s fair.” he acknowledged, trying to ignore the fact that the blue-haired boy was literally looking down on him.

“What do you even want with our leader? Last I recall, you despised him enough to attempt murder.”

“I only wanted to speak with him. You can ask him, all that I’ve done to him in the past few days is offer polite conversation and chess competition. And no, I don’t hate him, as much as that would be so much more convenient.”

“The past few days…? How have you been meeting with him?”

Goro shrugged. “After hours. He told someone I was his cousin.”

“He didn’t tell us about that.”

“I asked him not to. You can probably guess why.”

“Well,” Yusuke said, voice tinged with hurt, “None of this changes what you’ve done to him, Akechi.”

“I know that,” Goro growled, starting to get frustrated with this conversation. Who was Kitagawa to police his relationship with Akira? He wasn’t going to do anything to him again. He already had the chance, and he did nothing. Couldn’t he see that? “But I have a second chance now. I’m done working with Shido. I will be a danger to your group no longer.” The words felt so strange on his tongue. Telling someone the actual, honest truth with the same lips that had only spilled lies for so many years… it was all so unfamiliar.

Yusuke, however, scoffed in response. “And how am I supposed to believe that?”

“If I was still working for the bastard, why wouldn’t I have seized the chance to take him out in this state? It would’ve been so simple.”

“You could have a grander scheme in the works. I wouldn’t put it past your capabilities.”

“You flatter me, Kitagawa. No, I don’t have some big plan in place. Shido does, though. He ordered me to finish the job and end the rest of your group so you wouldn’t give him any more trouble. Now, if I were still his loyal mutt, would I be divulging this precious information? I think not.”

Yusuke’s eyes grew wider and wider as he spoke. “Kill… all of us?”

Goro nodded. “Of course, I won’t be going through with that particular plan. However, if there aren’t any results soon, or he catches any hint of betrayal, he’ll find someone else to do the job. Then, he’ll get rid of the trash that couldn’t get it done right. So, here’s my proposition: I work with all of you to take him down before that can happen.”

“You know that’s not my decision to make.” Goro’s heart sunk once again. He’d been honest with someone other than Akira for once in his life, and this is what it got him? His life, his goals, his slight chance at redemption - gone in an instant. “But I believe you, Akechi. And I will help you, though on one condition.”

Goro let out a sigh of relief but maintained his composure. He’d forgotten that all of the Phantom Thieves were so blindly trusting. Not the brightest bunch, but it worked to his advantage. “And that would be?”

“You have to be honest with Akira about what you’ve done.”

Goro’s blood froze. “All of it?”

Yusuke nodded sagely. 

“Counter-offer. I’ll tell him all about the shit with Shido. With all of that, I can be honest. Hell, I’ll tell him about the mental shutdowns. Wakaba. Okumura. All of it. But the interrogation room? No. He would never trust me. He’d hate me. This whole thing would never work.” He stumbled for more excuses. It was too early to tell him that. His second chance would just fly out the window. He looked up into Yusuke’s eyes, and the glare that had been focused on him for so long had vanished. Now, his gaze carried something more akin to… pity? Anger welled up in his stomach. He didn’t need pity. He barely stopped himself from hitting Yusuke with a sarcastic remark for that, as he knew he had to play this safe. “I need to tell him on my own terms. Not anyone else’s.”

“But you will tell him?”

Goro nodded. “I will.”

“Before Shido’s heart is stolen?”

“Really?”

Yusuke glared at him again.

“Okay, sure, fine. Whatever. I’ll tell him before the job’s done.”

“Alright.” Yusuke softened and took a deep breath. “Please, for his sake, keep your word.”

Goro nodded again, and the two went back to Akira’s room. A pit of worry formed in Goro’s stomach. Would Akira feel the same about him as before when he told him the truth? Probably not. But he could work with that, as long as he didn’t hate him. As long as he didn’t waste his chance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took so long. i'm so lazy and had trouble getting inspired. but here it is, and i hope you guys like it! if you want, leave constructive criticism in the comments, i'd really appreciate it!
> 
> thanks as always to powers637!!
> 
> if you want to see more of my stuff, follow me on twitter at @makomako_fics ! it's a bunch of shuake stuff and i'll post updates whenever i post a new chapter or story. thanks!!


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